


Picking up the Pieces

by emeraldine087



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 2018 Stony MCU Bingo Fill, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Avengers: Infinity War, Depression, Do not Read if You haven't seen the movie yet, Drama, Fix-It of Sorts, I'm working out my depression because of IW, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Slash, SPOILERS ABOUND, Self-Blame, Spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War Movie, The Author Regrets Nothing, but love it to pieces, i hate that movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 17:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14501565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldine087/pseuds/emeraldine087
Summary: Tony finds his way back to Earth after their failed incursion in Titan to find out that he's lost so much more than he thought. He falls into depression, but Steve is there to, maybe, make Tony realize a few things.For the "Avengers: Infinity War" square on my 2018 Stony MCU Bingo Card.





	Picking up the Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> This fills the N4 square in my 2018 Stony MCU Bingo Card - AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR.
> 
> So...that damn movie *decimated* me and it was a wonder I was able to watch it five times considering the amount of stress it gave me (I actually watched it four times in one day--I did an IW marathon, which in hindsight, might not have been the best of ideas because it was really a heartrending movie). And I have the worst movie hangover in history now!!!
> 
> Hence this fic which I just gotta get off my chest. I could have chosen an IronStrange angle or even a Starker (because really, *that* scene--and you know what I'm talking about, too, those who have seen the movie already--just tore me to unrecognizable shreds!) but I decided to go the Stony way and put it in as a Stony MCU Bingo entry as stated above.
> 
> Still not beta-read, so for any SPaG issues let me know. Oh and if it still hasn't occurred to you yet: **DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE YET AND DO NOT WANT SPOILERS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**
> 
> Otherwise, push on and I hope you enjoy reading!  
> \---

_It was 7:42 in the evening in Brescia, Italy, on a day like any other when the burner phone that was taking up permanent residence in Steve Rogers’ utility belt pouch rang. At first, Steve didn’t know where the shrill ringing could be coming from simply because he’d never heard the flip phone ring before._

_It was Sam Wilson, Steve’s constant wingman—in all senses of the word, who pointed the ringing out to him, and there was, for a moment, a mad scramble to answer the phone before it went to voicemail. This was the first time in over two years since he’d sent a duplicate of the outmoded gadget to New York that the one in his possession realized its purpose that there was no way on God’s green earth that he was missing this call._

_“Tony? Hello?” Steve answered almost breathlessly, cradling the phone against his ear as if it was a priceless and fragile treasure. He turned towards Sam, instantly guarded, while the latter looked back at him with a knowing roll of his eyes at Steve’s reaction to finally, finally getting a long-awaited call from Tony Stark._

_Steve wouldn’t admit it, not to anyone, not even on pain of death, but he had spent many a sleepless night—during his short sojourn in Wakanda to see to Bucky’s safety and while on the run after having broken his friends out of the Raft—just staring at the burner phone and wishing for it to ring. However, he obviously underestimated Tony’s stubborn streak, so much so that weeks of waiting turned to months, and months turned to a year, and the year turned into two…_

_But Steve was just as stubborn as Tony that no matter how much he missed the genius-billionaire’s jokes and sarcastic quips, he held himself back from using the phone as well, figuring that should there be a_ real _emergency, Tony wouldn’t put his pride above the safety of innocent civilians and would actually get in touch with Steve._

_There was no reply but only garbled static on the other end of the line that Steve was afraid the call had gone to voicemail after all until—_

_“Steve?”_

_He might not have heard Tony’s voice in a while, even if he’d devoted a couple of nights—or_ four _… four nights a week would be a closer estimation, really—secretly looking up videos of his former teammate posted on social media, but no amount of cold shoulder, silent treatment could make Steve not recognize Tony’s voice in a heartbeat. And the caller on the other end of the line was_ not _Tony Stark. Granted, it was a voice Steve had not heard in quite some time as well—_

_Before Steve could invite the caller to continue, the latter did. “Steve, something’s happened. There was an attack on New York and…something’s coming—something end-of-the-universe huge. You need to find Vision and keep him safe—” the caller rattled off, not letting Steve get a word in edgewise._

_“—Where’s Tony?” Steve interrupted, turning towards Sam again, this time with perceptible alarm._

_“He’s—I don’t… I don’t know,” the familiar voice answered, panic lacing his voice, too, and it was hard to miss despite the interference in the signal. “He’s gone, Steve. I don’t know what’s happened to him.”_

_Dread, cold and heavy, crept from the pit of Steve’s stomach and spread through his limbs. Tony was probably just missing. But there was no way that he was de—no, he couldn’t be; he couldn’t. There were still so many things they needed to talk about, to fix. “I’ll find Vision and I’ll make sure he’s safe. I’ll see you back at the compound on upstate New York. I’ll text you how to get there.”_

_“Hurry, Steve,” urged the caller. “If they found what they were after in New York in no time, they’re probably on to Vision already.”_

_“I’m on it. Get yourself to the compound,” reassured Steve before continuing, “and Bruce… it’s great to hear your voice…”_

_“Same here, Cap. I’ll see you soon.”_

_He had barely disconnected the call with Bruce when Steve found himself dialing another number, one he knew by heart. If they were going to track Vision down, they needed a ride out of Italy. She would be thrilled to know that Bruce had found his way back home._

_When the call connected, Steve didn’t bother waiting for the cursory greeting. “Nat? We have a situation…”_

\---

It barely registered with Tony Stark how he and his reluctant companion, the alien cyborg Nebula, got off Titan and found themselves on Earth.

He was home, and he didn’t even know how he and Nebula had decided between the two of them that going to Earth was their best bet after the absolute, complete and undeniable catastrophe that was the good doctor bargaining for Tony’s life by surrendering the Time Stone, Thanos rabbiting off of his former home in pursuit of the Mind Stone that was embedded on Vision’s forehead, and everyone in their company disintegrating into ashes.

And dying. Quill was dead, along with the rest of his crew—the empath, Mantis and the unexpectedly cheeky strongman, Drax. The good doctor was dead. And Parker—

 _Pete_. Peter was gone. Tony was too stunned and heartbroken to truly grieve the death of his young friend. Tony had been too tired, too worried for the fate of half the universe that he just stood there, hugging a weakened Peter like a helpless idiot. He didn’t do something. He _couldn’t_ do anything as Peter, also, dissolved into ashes that Tony tried his hardest to keep cupped in his hand but couldn’t.

“He did it,” Nebula had whispered.

Thanos had succeeded in his vendetta, in his destiny.

While Tony was still alive to mourn the death of his young friend and new allies. As was _his_ destiny.

\---

When Tony actually and finally came to, out of the stupor he had slipped into because of a combination of exhaustion, grief, rage, guilt, and confusion, he was in one of the rooms in the medical building of the Avengers compound, hooked to an IV line and an array of medical machines; and Rhodey was seated in a straight-backed wooden chair beside Tony’s hospital bed, stone-faced yet haunted—especially around the eyes and the lips that were set in a tight line.

Rhodey was alive—he had not disintegrated into ashes like the others, and Tony’s first instinct was to break into tears of relief. Which he did. Tony knew it was the first exhibition of real weakness that Rhodey had ever seen from him in a long, _long_ time, not even after his rescue from Afghanistan. But Tony was beyond caring about what he must look like to his friend. Half the fucking universe was turned to fucking ash; Tony was just damn glad he got to keep what few friends he could.

“When are you going to stop making me think that you’d died?” Rhodey grumbled, the depth and intensity of his emotions nevertheless showing with how his eyes glistened. “Do you, maybe, wake up every morning and confer with your AI and say _, ‘hey FRIDAY, how are we going to make Rhodey lose his shit today by making him think I’d died alone in a ditch somewhere?’_ ”

“Contrary to what you might think, Honey bear, I don’t do pre-meditation. I’m the King of improvisation and spontaneity. I dunno but shit just always seems to find me,” Tony answered, his voice hoarse—either with disuse or too much screaming inside, he couldn’t really tell. After a beat, Tony continued, “here I’m just glad that you didn’t turn to ash like the rest of them.”

“The rest of— _who_? Who were you with when that spaceship left New York, Tones?”

“There was a doctor—no, a—a Sorcerer—name of Strange. Stephen Strange. The aliens were after the Stone that the Sorcerers had sworn an oath to protect,” Tony explained, haltingly. “Him and—and—“

Tony felt a deluge of emotions coming on again, thinking about the kid. He couldn’t bear to say Pete’s name because then it would feel like everything that had happened was real. When he was still desperately hoping that it had all been nothing but a bad dream. That Peter was still on that bus from a field trip to MOMA. That Peter was still going to answer him with a chatty ‘Hey Mr. Stark—what’s up?’ if he tried calling to ask if the kid was in school, in the middle of AP Physics, like he was supposed to and not patrolling back alleys to save grandmas from stray, possibly rabid animals.

“—Pete. Parker,” Tony managed to choke out. “He’s dead, Rhodey. Strange, too. And this band of aliens we happened upon on Titan who was also looking to stop Thanos…” And Tony let his story pour. The story was begging to be told, then maybe, Tony hoped, the heavy weight on his chest would ease somehow.

It didn’t.

“Where’s Nebula? The—the woman I was with?” Tony asked during a lull in his story-telling. “She said that the people we were with died because Thanos had succeeded. Does that mean that he was able to get the Mind Stone from Vision?”

With a tired but resolute intake of breath, Rhodey answered Tony’s questions and took to telling his own story: how they went to Wakanda to try to find a way to extract the Mind Stone from Vision to destroy it without killing him; how a huge force of aliens knocked on their door to try to get it from them; and how they mounted a massive defense to drive the aliens back until T’Challa’s genius of a sister, Shuri, will have been able to take the Stone safely off of Vision’s head and Wanda will have been able to destroy it to keep it out of Thanos’ grasp.

“But when we thought the tide has turned in our favor, Thanos himself was there. We all fought him, but none of us could get close. We couldn’t touch him,” Rhodey relayed with a small shudder. Reliving the events must be just as excruciating for him as it was for Tony to recount his own off-planet experiences. “Wanda was able to destroy the Mind Stone—that much we know. We all felt the blowback from the Stone’s destruction. But next thing we knew, Cap and Thor were yelling about where Thanos had gone to; people on the battlefield were dissolving into unexplainable ashes and we couldn’t find half our number. Thor swears he was able to stab Thanos with his new battle-axe, Stormbreaker, before the alien vanished into a portal despite his weakened state.”

“I take it Thor is still around then?” Tony asked, holding back the urge to wheeze. How many of his friends had paid the price for their failure to get the gauntlet off Thanos on Titan? He was half-afraid to ask who else was left.

“Yes, and so’s his friend—a sentient raccoon named Rocket. There’s me and Natasha, and—”

“—me,” a voice piped up from the vicinity of the door in the corner and Tony turned his head to find Bruce Banner, standing in the threshold in his unassuming manner, but there was something about his stance, too, that said he was three seconds away from throwing himself at Tony for another thankful embrace, much like the one that Bruce surprised him with at Central Park.

“Bruce…”

Another fierce wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm Tony upon laying eyes on his much-missed science brother again. Bruce must have read the thankfulness in the shine out of Tony’s eyes that there were no further invitations needed for another bone-crushing embrace between the two scientists. “You don’t know how glad I am that you’re OK, Tony,” Bruce said, his voice trembling and his breath warm and reassuringly there against the side of Tony’s neck

After Bruce let him go, Tony couldn’t help but look back towards the door in wide-eyed expectation. He didn’t know what—or _who else_ —he was hoping to be standing there. But if he thought _one friend_ of his could find his way back home after long years of exile, then maybe—

But no. Tony supposed not…

“As much as I am glad to see the both of you, you will have to excuse me—I need to get in touch with my fiancée. After Thanos’ vendetta against half the universe, I gotta know how our guest list is looking…”

Bruce and Rhodey’s faces fell at the abrupt shift in subject. The visible improvement of Tony’s mood at the mention of Pepper and their pending nuptials did not have the same effect on his other two friends that suddenly made Tony very uncomfortable and suspicious that his friends weren’t being completely upfront with him about what had gone down while Tony was away and out of it.

It only occurred to him how peculiar it had been to wake up to Rhodey instead of the reassuring touch of his future wife-to-be. He knew Pepper too well to know that nothing short of the threat of severe bodily harm or the literal end of world could keep the woman from nagging at him for being brash and fussing over and mothering him to within an inch of his life at the very moment upon waking.

Something was _very_ wrong.

Without preamble, he called out, “FRIDAY, you there, baby? Can you call Pepper for me? I gotta talk to the future missus right now. She’s probably worried sick that I’d gotten buried alive on some barren moon,” Tony said, trying for a joke but falling flat. He didn’t even wait for any confirmation that FRIDAY was indeed ready to comply with his request.

When his command was met with only silence, Tony shifted in bed, making to scramble off the bed to find a phone, a tablet—anything—with enough communication and processing ability to do what he wanted. He would even take Steve’s pathetic excuse for a phone at this rate just to get a line to Pepper. “FRIDAY—”

“Tones—no, wait—hang on,” Rhodey intercepted him before he could make any more sudden movements. “You’ll dislodge your IV—you gotta calm down, man.”

“I will be calm when I’ve talked to Pepper and when I’ve found out that she’s all right,” Tony protested, chest tightening. “Where’s Pepper, Rhodey? Why isn’t she here?”

It was as if he already knew the answer but refused to believe it until he’d heard it from the lips of his friends. A silent scream was starting to burgeon from his diaphragm again.

“Tony,” Bruce said softly, immense pain and sympathy oozing from his kind eyes. “We systematically checked on everyone after Thanos fled, calling everyone we could think of—did a headcount of sorts, and—” Bruce seemed like he really didn’t know how to break it to his friend gently, “—Pepper’s…no one’s been able to get hold of Pepper. Happy’s here. We brought him in when we found out he was OK, but they weren’t together when—they weren’t with each other for him to have eyes on her.

“A lot of the others also remain unaccounted for—we couldn’t get hold of Fury or Maria. Jane Foster’s also AWOL. So is Sharon Carter. We’re still trying to get hold of Clint and his family—”

Bruce kept on speaking, enumerating those they were able to contact and whose well-being they were able to confirm, and those whose whereabouts were still up in the air. But Tony had ceased to listen anymore. _Pepper was missing_ , which would mean that she was most likely dead. Like Quill, Strange and Pete.

There wouldn’t be a wedding. There wouldn’t be a baby. No family. No future. There might as well be no hope. Everything that Tony feared had come to pass. Half of his friends—his _family_ —were dead. And he was left behind to mourn _all_ of them.

\---

Wakanda, Bruce said, was, in a word, spectacularly beautiful. Bruce described it so that it painted a picture in Tony’s head so clearly. It was where nature, untamed, met and married with cutting edge technology and the result was nothing short of extraordinary. Had Tony been to Wakanda under different circumstances, he would have had a permanent boner for every vista he could feast his eyes on and every piece of tech he could get his hands on.

But as it was, he’d missed all the earthbound excitement. He thought he could head Thanos off so the purple bastard would never have to reach Earth and give his friends the fight of their lives, but he’d failed. Like everything in his life he’d set out to do, he’d failed so spectacularly that half the damn universe was dead and his whole life might as well be over.

For a while there on Titan, it almost was, too. He was so sure he was going to die—that Thanos was going to close his fist and Tony would just be gone. To think, the last thing he’d said to Pepper was to move their reservation to a later hour all because he’d hitched a ride in a flying doughnut bound for god-knew-where and he wasn’t expecting to be back in time—or he wasn’t expecting to be back, period. And now, funny enough, he—who had tempted fate over and over, was still here—still alive, which yeah, _fuck that_ —and Pepper and Peter, half the people he ever gave a damn about in his life, really, were gone.

Why did Strange bargain with Thanos for Tony’s life— _why_? After that whole scathing speech about choosing the Stone if it came down to a choice between the accursed gem and his and the kid’s life, he still flipped his own moral compass the bird, went and haggled for Tony’s life anyway.

_“There was no other way.”_

What, like Thanos getting all six Infinity Stones and actually succeeding was really how the _one_ alternate future in fourteen million, six hundred five alternate futures had played out? How could the only way have been that Thanos succeeded and Tony was left to pick up the pieces? Like he hadn’t been picking up the pieces for the past _six years_ already?!

If Strange had just let Thanos kill him and used the Time Stone on the titan’s pasty ass, Tony wouldn’t be so miserable right now. He wouldn’t, strictly speaking, _be alive_ , but he wouldn’t be miserable…

 _That_ particular part of his story was something he couldn’t bear to tell either Rhodey or Bruce about. _He didn’t know how._ Even he, himself, couldn’t understand why it had to happen, so he knew there was no way he could reasonably relay it to others.

He didn’t have a death wish. He didn’t hitch a ride with Squidward’s spaceship intending to die a hero’s death, no. But yeah, no— _death_ would’ve been so much better compared to this emptiness.

He rarely left his bedroom after he’d been discharged from medical. Bruce sometimes sat with him, telling him about adventures in space with Thor, seeing the destruction of Asgard, reconciling with Loki, fanboying over the science in Wakanda. Tony listened; that was all he could do. He was constantly tired and his stab wound was still giving him shooting pains up his abdomen and a whole lot of discomfort in the most inconvenient of times. And he was _empty_. So empty.

Five days after Tony came to, he found out that Steve Rogers was among the scant number of people who were still alive and that he had found his way back home at the compound from his self-imposed exile. Tony found out when Natasha paid him a visit.

“I would have wanted to be here when you woke up,” Natasha said with an uncharacteristically fond and amazed stare, like she couldn’t believe that baseline-human Tony Stark had fought a powerful being, held his own with nothing more to show for it but a stab on his side and a broken heart, and made it off an alien planet relatively in one piece with a warrior-cyborg lady. She came bearing a tray of breakfast fare for Tony, probably along with the hope that her presence would somehow help get Tony out of his funk. “But we wanted to see who we could round up—get feelers out if there were people out there, Enhanced or otherwise, looking to retaliate. Thor swears Thanos is out there somewhere; he wouldn’t be expecting us, puny humans, to try to even the score.”

“What’s the point?” Tony answered, dispassionately, that Natasha narrowed her eyes at him, half-convinced already that this wasn’t the same Tony she had once fought alien invaders and robots with. “The guy’s probably lounged out on some planet enjoying a perpetual sunrise with an equally perpetual self-satisfied grin on his face, convinced that he was looking upon a universe that was grateful for his altruism. He wouldn’t give two shits about worrying for any form of retaliation from us—he’s had his fun playing with us; he’s accomplished what he’s set out do. What did it matter to him if we’re kinda sore about the whole deal? Me, personally, I’m just questioning his supposedly _‘random’_ genocide ‘cause if balance was what he’d been after then _what the fuck_ am I still doing here when there were good men— _good people_ —who’d still be alive right now if I’d just… _died_ like I was supposed to!

“We don’t get a do-over, Nat. All the aces are in the Mad Titan’s hand. We should just cut our losses and run. Because it doesn’t matter if we care too much or care too little; the result is always, _always_ the same—it’s always _other_ people who pay the price,” Tony spat out, vision burning with unshed pain. It was the most he’s spoken since he had regained consciousness. Voicing his self-critical thoughts out loud further drained him than he already was. “After six long years since the nightmare that was New York, I’d _finally_ learned that lesson—”

“We’re the _Avengers_ , Tony,” Natasha reasoned with him after a short period of thoughtful silence, her voice no more forceful than a little girl’s, trying to convince the adults not to discount her. “The point of us is to _care_ so that if we have to pay the price then it’s a price we can all live with. Did you not once warn an invading alien god that if the Avengers can’t protect the Earth then we would sure as hell avenge it?”

“I don’t think you got the memo, Romanoff. _There are no Avengers anymore_ ,” murmured Tony, slipping little by little into that headspace where he could retreat into himself, where he could ensconce himself in regret and there was nothing nobody could do about it.

“Then we’ll just have to convince you otherwise,” Natasha said, cradling his head between her hands and giving a soft kiss to his forehead in a rare display of sisterly affection.

“Yeah? And who’s _we_?” Tony challenged the redhead. There hasn’t been an _Avengers_ for _years_. Tony had tapped out of any organized team they were trying to build after the Ultron debacle. Bruce had gone into hiding only to turn up in another planet as a gladiator of sorts; Thor had left shortly thereafter to try to find out more about the Infinity Stones; and Cap… Cap had won the custody battle, hands down, after the divorce. Tony returned to the lone gunslinger act and took to mentoring Parker and proposing marriage to his on-again, off-again girlfriend. It worked for a while, there being no more Avengers, officially. Yeah, no—Romanoff was going to have her work cut out for her, convincing him otherwise.

The team had brought Tony nothing but heartache—a chance at a family he had chosen that went bust and now he truly had nothing left… Thanos had taken _everything_ from him, leaving him with nothing but his wretched life of misery, self-blame and unanswered questions.

“She meant _me_ ,” a voice piped up from the direction of the open door. And Steve Rogers in all his bearded, black-clad glory stood there, looking like he wanted to be less imposing—less rough around the edges—than he really was.

“I see you survived the purge, Cap,” Tony remarked quite dispassionately after a beat, surreptitiously patting the back pocket of the trousers he was wearing for the burner phone even though he knew it wouldn’t be where he always put it on his person. He had gotten used to the feel and weight of it in his pocket, the shape and feel of it in his hand. He never left the compound without it; he’d kept it charged and sometimes, he looked at it, willing it to ring and willing it to stay quiet at the same time. He didn’t know why he’d carted it around when he had no intention of using it in the first place.

The day that Thanos’ minions came, he’d come close, though. He didn’t know how he could’ve started _that_ conversation, so he was slightly relieved that he was rudely interrupted.

He averted his eyes because he couldn’t bear to look at the other man he hadn’t seen nor heard from in over two years. The very prospect of having to look into those blue eyes was making Tony’s throat constrict and his chest hurt.

It wasn’t that Tony didn’t care whether or not Steve Rogers’ death was another one he had to mourn; but it was that Tony _did care_ —perhaps too much—that the Captain wouldn’t be on that ever-lengthening list of Tony Stark’s regrets after all.

“I don’t know why nobody gave me the heads-up,” Tony said, anxiously clearing his throat and giving the former Russian spy a mild stink-eye for springing the fact that Cap was still alive when Tony was hardly prepared for that little sweetheart. Nat’s only response was a casual shrug.

Rogers would probably find it beyond weird—Tony shedding grateful tears that the blond was part of the surviving half of the population when, for a little over two years, Tony couldn’t even be bothered to check if he was still alive and kicking. But Tony was. _Grateful_. Every friend—estranged or no—that he got to keep was a tick in the _Life is Still Worth Living_ column! Tony refrained from major waterworks, all the same.         

“They probably didn’t think that was something you’d be particularly interested to know about,” Rogers answered in jest, only that he failed to rein in the pain that flashed in his eyes at Tony’s apparent indifference.

“They would be wrong then,” Tony said with the slightest of quirks to the corners of his lips.

The Captain gave a sincere smile albeit thin-lipped. The relief shining out of his bright blue eyes, though, was a dead giveaway to the emotions he was fighting to keep bottled up inside. “It’s great to see you, Tony,” Cap remarked, nodding once and smiling again, as if he was re-learning the expression on his face since there hadn’t been any reason to really smile of late.

“You, too, Cap.” And Tony was both surprised and grounded by the fact that, after everything that’s happened between the two of them, he meant every word of it, too.

\---

_Steve, like a silent sentry, watched the still figure of Tony Stark, who was out in the quinjet landing pad, wrapped in fleece blankets and hunched in on himself. The Captain folded his arms across his chest and brought the forefinger and thumb of his right hand against his lips in thought. He was sure that every current resident of the compound could readily observe how worried he was for Tony. Sure, he was worried in general—they still haven’t determined the well-being of half of the Avengers staff, their friends and allies and that crippled them and any beginnings of plans to mount a retaliation against Thanos._

_Governments were without leaders; kingdoms were without monarchs; billion-dollar corporations were without chief executive officers. Top scientists, social media influencers, movers and shakers of various sectors and industries were just…gone. The world was holding its breath in disbelief that something of this scale could’ve happened. While there were small victories in that Secretary Ross and his supporters and minions seemed to have been conveniently included in the casualties, so much so that no one complained when the remaining Avengers and their extra-terrestrial friends just casually decided to bunk over in the compound._

_Steve was worried and, at the same time, he was grieving. Bucky was gone; Sam was gone; Wanda and Vision, too; Sharon Carter, Fury and Maria Hill were missing; no one seemed to know what might have happened to Clint; and Tony… Tony was not the spitfire that Steve remembered._

_He barely talked, seldom left his room, not even for food or to clock in hours in the workshop like he used to. He just stared off into space with a haunted tinge to his now-dull brown eyes that used to gleam with humor, wisdom and mischief._

_Steve had no idea what had happened to Tony aboard that alien ship; Rhodey and Bruce would tiptoe around the subject whenever he asked. But Steve could surmise that, like him, Tony was grieving. And blaming himself like Tony was wont to do. The genius-billionaire always tried to pass himself off as indifferent—detached from people, too self-absorbed to give a damn about others but the truth was, Tony always took it hardest whenever they lost a battle. Steve, during one of the many, many nights he would spend thinking and deconstructing how his life had turned out, thought it might be because Tony counted himself a futurist—a futurist, who was supposed to anticipate eventualities and prepare for all sorts of outcomes._

_Steve wanted, so badly, to reach out to Tony but a part of him was afraid that Tony would rebuke him, that it was going to be a new wick for a new conflict between the two of them. Steve dreaded that Tony was going to pass the blame on to him—because if their conflict over the Sokovia Accords had not happened, they would have had time to work together to prepare for this, to guard against this, instead of in-fighting and taking sides._

_If Steve had not lied to Tony about his family, they could have had time and the benefit of strong friendship ties to talk things through even if they’d disagreed about the Accords. But Steve had kept his cards close to the chest and Tony had kept his, and now they’ve found themselves here: A battle tactician who had no idea where—or how—to begin to fight back; and a failed futurist._

_“Are you always gonna be looking at him from afar?” Natasha asked, shattering Steve’s quiet introspection. “You’ve waited long enough for him to be the one to reach out to you, which he never did. Are you gonna tell me, you’d still rather wait?”_

_“I don’t want to push,” Steve mumbled, tucking his hands to his sides and hugging himself. “He’s been through a lot.”_

_“So have you,” answered Natasha. “When are you going to talk about it? We need you, Steve—we need the_ both _of you if we want a chance to make things right somehow. But if you’re just gonna dance around each other, the rest of the world will be holding its collective breath for a long, long time._

 _“Tony is—he’s in a really bad place right now, Steve. He thinks he should have_ died _in outer space. And no one, not even Bruce and Rhodey, could get through to him,” Natasha lamented. “Maybe ours are not the voices he needs to hear right now…”_

 _“What can_ I _possibly tell him that he will believe, Nat?” Steve asked with a humorless chuckle. “I hid what I knew about his parents for years until it blew up in my face in the most inconvenient time, and I abandoned him and stayed away from him for over two years! What makes you think he will believe_ anything _I have to say? What am_ I _supposed to tell him?”_

_“The truth, Steve,” Natasha said, quietly. “You can start with that.”_

_A half hour after Natasha left him standing there, internally debating with himself, Steve mustered his will and walked towards the landing pad to approach Tony albeit cautiously. He would offer his company to Tony, but if the latter would rather be alone, Steve sure could respect that._

_He approached quietly, half mesmerized and pained because of the expression emblazoned on Tony’s otherwise striking face. The genius was staring off into the stars with a look so forlorn, defeated and resigned, it broke Steve’s heart just looking at him. He seemed like he was asking the heavens a silent question but he wasn’t getting he answers he was hoping to get._

_Clearing his throat as unobtrusively as possible, Steve asked, “would you like some company?”_

_“Might as well,” Tony replied, tearing his eyes away from the star-strewn heavens and looking towards Steve’s general direction with a small grin that didn’t quite reach his once-beautifully brilliant eyes._

_They sat side by side in companionable silence, basking in the cool evening breeze. Tony kept on gazing quietly at the stars while Steve, for his part, watched Tony’s wordless scrutiny of the skies. “Are you looking for a particular constellation?” Steve finally asked, desperately curious._

_“No,” came Tony’s simple reply, without elaborating. They fell silent again, and that clued Steve in that if he wanted to keep Tony company, it was going to be one without conversation. So, he saw it fit to watch the stars, too._

_Thanos was out there somewhere, reveling in his success. And that incensed Steve further. There was a bigger part of him that itched to find Thanos and make him pay. For Bucky. For Sam. For T’Challa, and everyone they’d so abruptly lost. As soon as they knew how to get back on their feet and pick up the pieces, they would make that sonofabitch pay._

_“I heard about what happened to Sam. And Barnes,” Tony piped up, breaking their companionable silence. “I’m sorry, Cap.”_

_Steve wanted to acknowledge his teammate’s sympathy, he really did, but what came out of his mouth was, “how come you never call me by my name, Tony? You always call me Cap or Rogers or Captain or any of your made-up nicknames. But you never just call me ‘Steve’.” He really was curious. He’d always been._

_Tony looked down towards the ground and smiled, still with a tinge of sadness to it. Steve didn’t think he would get an answer, not a serious one, at least. “It’s ‘cause you were never just ‘Steve’ to me. I grew up hearing about you, you know. I told you in that boardroom that I hated you. But what I didn’t tell you was that I also admired you—whilst hating you. I wanted to be like you—a good man, a man of courage, heroism and integrity, a man that other men would follow and support to the ends of the world. A man that other men would spend their whole lives looking for.”_

_The truth of that made Steve want to shrink into himself. Tony had thought he was all that, and then Steve went and lied to Tony about Bucky. Before leaving him with a dead suit in Siberia and sending him an impersonal letter and an outmoded phone like it was going to make everything all right. No wonder Tony didn’t call him! He, Steve, wouldn’t call himself had he been in Tony’s place, too!_

_“But it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Tony bemoaned. “My mother is dead. Barnes is dead. Half the fucking universe is dead… And I’m so sorry I failed, Cap—”_

_“—it wasn’t your fault, Tony—” interrupted Steve. Because—hey—_ it wasn’t _! It wasn’t Tony’s fault. Tony did what he could with what was given to him, with what time and resources were afforded him. They were supposed to be a ‘team’. They were supposed to work_ together _! If anything, it should be Steve who should apologize. He shouldn’t have let Ross come between them. He should have sat Tony down and talked to him about Bucky and the Winter Soldier! But they didn’t! And that was all water over the dam now. They have bigger things to think about. Far nobler causes to avenge. Worse villains to defeat. And they have to rise above their past and re-learn to work together if they want any chance at all to accomplish any of that._

 _“—no,_ it was _,” Tony interjected. “If we didn’t fail to hold him off in Titan. If Strange had not given him the Time Stone in exchange for letting_ me _live, he wouldn’t have been able to get the Mind Stone from Vision—_

 _“You know that’s what I’ve been trying to understand all this time. Only I can’t,” Tony protested, voice with just the slightest of tremors that only Super Soldier enhanced hearing could detect. “Strange said he wouldn’t hesitate to let us all die if it meant protecting the Time Stone—keeping Thanos from getting it. And then he gave up the Stone to that genocidal maniac to bargain for_ my life _. Strange said there was no other way. But then that Sorcerer-asshole didn’t have to watch his family—the people he loved—die now, did he? No, that was_ me. _I get that happy, happy privilege…” Tony’s voice broke and he covered his mouth with a palm to keep the choking emotion from escaping. “Fucking sh—I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to lay this on you. I’m sorry, I gotta—"_

 _He scrambled to his feet to take leave of Steve as quickly as his injury and the blankets swathed around his slighter frame would allow, but the blond was quick to react, too. “Wait Tony, please…I—_ wait _…” Steve clutched at Tony’s wrist, catching him before he could scurry back towards the direction of the living area._

_Breathing a resolute sigh, Steve steeled himself to say to Tony the things that were long overdue. “It wasn’t your fault, Tony._

_“I’m sorry that I wasn’t around for the past couple of years when I should have been. I’m sorry that you’re hurting so much right now. I’m sorry that you had to experience all of that. And I’m sorry that you can’t understand why Strange did…what he did,” said Steve, turning and looking up to try to meet Tony’s downcast eyes. “But_ I _can…”_

_That did the trick of getting Tony to look at him, all right._

\---

“You can?” Tony echoed. “You can _what_?”

The Captain grinned fondly at Tony, still clutching at the latter’s wrist as letting go was not an option. “I can understand why he did it. In fact, I appreciate him for doing so. I never met him but I’m thankful that he did what he did—give Thanos the Time Stone if it meant you will live.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Cap,” rebuked Tony. “If Strange’d just stuck to his guns like he said he would, all of the people—Barnes and Sam, all the people that mattered to you that disintegrated into dust would still be alive—”

“—and _you_ wouldn’t be!—”

“—a small price to pay,” Tony interjected.

“We don’t trade lives, Tony,” Rog— _Steve_ —replied before averting his gaze with a humorless grin, laced with irony, as if remembering an inside joke. “And _you_ matter to me, too. I’m sorry if I’ve never made you feel that _you do_. But you. Matter. To me. And like I said, I understand why Strange did it.

“Because with you alive, we have a _real chance_ to make things right,” said Steve. “Because that’s just the kind of person you are, Tony Stark. The kind that keeps fighting the good fight, no matter the odds, baseline human or no. The kind that will never stop until you’ve accomplished what you set out to do. The kind that is ruthlessly persevering—”

“—then that makes me no different from him—from Thanos,” Tony remarked, remembering how Thanos said they were alike in that they were cursed with knowledge. Perhaps they really were more similar than that… Were they? When he unknowingly gave birth to Ultron, when he was foisting his opinion on Steve and the others on the matter of the Sokovia Accords, was that him being more similar to Thanos that he would like to admit? Was that him doing something monumentally wrong but thinking, convinced in his heart, that he was right and that it was what the world needed? Was he the same monster that Thanos was?

“Maybe you have similarities. And maybe that’s exactly what we need if we want to defeat him and set things to rights,” Steve answered. “But you’re no Thanos, Tony. Do you wanna know why?”

Tony blinked his assent for Steve to continue.

“Because you have _us_. You have family,” Steve reassured. “We’re here. And we can do this— _we can do anything_ —together. I know this time around, we can do better—you and me. We—all of us—can listen and play off the strengths and weaknesses of each other. We’re the _Avengers_ and with us working _together_ , having each other’s backs—Thanos doesn’t stand a chance,” joked Steve, comfortingly squeezing Tony’s wrist that was still ensconced in his hand.

“I can’t stop you from putting the blame on yourself, Tony. I can’t stop you from feeling sad and angry. I feel the same thing. I also feel like I should have done more,” Steve reminded him. “But don’t think that you’re going through this alone. We all lost people we love, true, and we would do well to honor their memories by living the best life we could. But the people I have _right here with me_? Well…I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

That got a smirk out of Tony, and it was a reaction that must have been so long in coming that it brought an equally amused reaction from Steve. “Does that mean you’re staying?”

“As I said to Secretary Ross when I got back, I’m beyond looking for forgiveness and way past asking for permission, so to hell with what’s left of the world’s governments… My family’s right here, and this is _exactly_ where I wanna be,” Steve commented. “If that’s all right with _you_?”

“Well…” Tony said, licking his lips—the mischievous glint resurfacing in his warm brown eyes. “I think we’re gonna need our master tactician if we’re formulating a retaliation for the ages, don’t you?”

Steve actually blushed at that.

“By the way, that…” Tony motioned towards Steve’s uncharacteristic beard. “Suits you. Makes you look more bad-ass than boy-next-door.”

“There’s the Tony I’ve been missing…”

Tony put his hand over Steve’s still encircling his wrist and gave it a fond press in reply.

He didn’t know where to go from here. A sad, pathetic excuse for a futurist he was. Also, he still missed Pepper like an ache in his heart that wouldn’t go away. He still thought he could’ve done more to keep Pete out of harm’s way. He still wondered what Strange could’ve seen in that one alternate future. He would probably always think Strange was barking for giving up the Stone in exchange for Tony’s sorry ass. He would probably always wonder how similar he and Thanos really were.

He had _no clue_ how they were picking up the pieces that Thanos had blown all to hell.

But this was a start.

 

 

\-----------FIN


End file.
